


Life on Mars?

by officialfoxsquadron



Series: fox 'verse [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Prison, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:18:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialfoxsquadron/pseuds/officialfoxsquadron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a God-awful small affair/To the girl with the mousy hair/But her mummy is yelling no/And her daddy has told her to go/But her friend is nowhere to be seen/Now she walks through her sunken dream/To the seat with the clearest view/And she's hooked to the silver screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life on Mars?

**Author's Note:**

> The bridge between Nowhere to Run and Piledriver Waltz. Enjoy.  
> Although the Star Wars universe itself is not mine, my original characters, expanded canon, Coruscanti/Lower and original worlds _are_ my own and my intellectual property. Taking inspiration or blatantly taking elements without my explicit permission is stealing.

Inmate 19845 was a spitter.

She yelled profanities at the top of her lungs, her accent trashy as her saliva flung everywhere, looking more like a bulldog than a girl. In fact, to most of the  _Devastator's_ guards, she was more animal than girl. Kicking, screaming, punching, clawing. Her face was such that she had a permanent scowl. She wasn't pretty and she knew it. It wasn't hard to tell she was from the streets. Her demeanor, the way she chewed her cheek and puffed hair out of her face, her tattoos. She was cocky, scrappy, and a fighter.

All things that would go away in time.

Dass remembered her first day here. From what he had been told, they had to drag her, kicking and screaming from the Rebel base. She put up such a fight that they knocked her out, and she woke up screaming again, this time from the searing pain in her left arm when they burned her prison number on her left arm. Truth be told, it was almost painful to watch. Until she spoke, calling him all sorts of unspeakable things as he dragged her to her cell.

She had nearly killed Andis when he stepped into her cell that night, tearing at his cheeks and kicking and clawing at his chest. Dass nearly thought she would rip his heart out, and felt a pang of sympathy. Sure, he wasn't a great guy, but he was a colleague, and didn't deserve to be mauled to death. They dragged him out of the cell that night, the girl's smile sending chills up his spine when she looked him right in the eye and sucked blood off her finger. She laughed at the guards as they dragged him out, so hard blood sputtered from her yellowed, chipped teeth.

They were dragging her now, down corridors and up elevators.

"Where are ya takin' me?" she had asked.

"Darth Vader wishes to see you," Dass had replied, nodding toward his partner, Bren, to open the gates and drag her forearm.

"Vadah?!" she had asked, her voice almost pleased. "Wot's 'e got ta do wiv li'le ol' me?"

"I'm sorry, Dass, did you understand any of that?" Bren had said, looking over the inmate's rats nest of hair toward his partner.

"Not a word. You must speak clearer."

"Should 'ave known you were fookin' posh pricks," she replied, rolling her eyes and resigning herself to her position, her arms going limp.

She had shown no visible sign of fear. Just acceptance, almost. Even curiosity.

The two threw her in the room, closing the door as she looked around, propping her arms up so she could see.

Dass had never seen Vader's personal torture chamber before. It was dark, and dimly lit, shaped in an octagon at one of the top levels of the devastator. Small, held up by bleak grey pillars. In the center was a device he had never seen in person, but had practiced using. A square rack, with chains hanging from each of the corners. Next to it, a table, filled with all sorts of blades.

"Get up," Bren growled, picking her up roughly and yanking her to the rack. "Dass, help me out."

Together, they took off her prison-standard shirt and pants, the girl laughing.

"Boys, I usually like a li'le romancin' first."

They ignored her and hooked her to the rack, each balled fist and foot getting a cuff.

"Gods, her feet are so ugly," Bren remarked, looking in disgust at her toes, squashed and mushed and her nails cracked.

"Dance," she replied simply, shrugging and smiling.

The two stepped back, hands behind their backs as they waited for Vader. 19845 hung from the rack, her legs and arms making her an X-shape as she lowered her head in an attempt to look at the door. Her eyes darted to the blades, but again, no fear. Dass even thought he caught a hint of a smile as she eyed them, as if she was mildly amused to see them.

Suddenly, Vader stomped in, his cape sweeping behind him dramatically.

"Guards," he called, the voice coming from his breathing apparatus deep and commanding as he turned his head to look at them both, ignoring the girl for a moment. "You may wait outside."

"Yessir," the two chorused, saluting sharply and exiting the room.

As soon as they left, the inmate showed her first signs of fear, as if it came over her in a wave. She struggled against the chains, clenching her teeth, looking at the weapons, and then Vader, and then the chains, and then back to Vader. She was close to screaming again, crying out, but didn't want to give the guards that pleasure. She ran through a million escape ideas in her head, but none of them were good, none of them would work.

Out of nowhere, Vader clenched her arm, making the young girl freeze as he grasped her chin with a cloaked hand, pressing his fingers into her cheeks and lifting her head to meet him. She was shaking, gritted pleas escaping from her teeth as he looked at her, towering above her as she shook.

"I must say," he began, looking her up and down as she struggled under his grasp, "It is nice to see you again after all these years, Charlotte Reynard."


End file.
